


Flower Crowns

by JessicaEBoswell



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: does contain swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 11:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9322232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaEBoswell/pseuds/JessicaEBoswell
Summary: Caboose doesn’t like to see everyone miserable, and when he finds a flower tree, the perfect solution becomes clear.





	

It had been a long day of walking and all the travellers wanted to do was rest, but that was a luxury they couldn’t afford. Plans had to be followed and timed as perfectly as possible if they were to succeed, and sleep would have to wait.

“This looks like a good place to stop for a while,” Grif suggested, lazily gesturing to an abandoned building at the bottom of a steep, sandy hill. “A really long while,” he added, glaring at Carolina who had insisted that they keep walking, even after he’d tried the age-old technique of complaining so much that she’d have to give in.

“It is getting dark,” Washington sighed. “It’ll be safer to carry on in the morning. Who knows what’s lurking around here after dark?”

“Exactly!” Simmons exclaimed. “There could be bears, or mutants, or mutant bears!”

“Mutant bears don’t scare me,” Sarge declared proudly. “I will beat each and every one of them off with my bare hands if I have to.”

Carolina resisted the urge to roll her eyes and surveyed the area below them, noticing no movement or signs of habitation, and so with a resigned sigh she nodded in agreement to the plan. “Fine,” she said. “But we set out at first light, and I want no complaining.” She aimed a stern look at Grif before descending the hill, the others following in tow.

Washington and Carolina took the first watch, and most of the other soldiers settled themselves down for a few hours of rest, but not Caboose; he couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried, and with an irritated breath he got to his feet, choosing to explore if he couldn’t rest.

There wasn’t much to see inside the decrepit building other than fallen rafters and rubble, but around the back of the complex stood a singular tree, the petals of the flowers white and glowing in the darkness of the night. It was a wonder it had survived in such a harsh environment, but Caboose didn’t care for that; all that mattered was that it was alive, and then an idea hit him. Everybody had been so downbeat and miserable, and he was worried that if someone didn’t cheer them up soon then they’d stay like that forever, so with a quick grin and a chuckle he sat himself beneath the tree, reaching up to pluck some of the flowers from the branches. Even removed from their holdings the flowers still glowed, the white light catching his youthful features and sparkling in his bright eyes. He hummed to himself as he entwined them together, placing the finished ones down on the pile beside him before starting on the next, weaving stems and creating the delicate crowns into the late hours of the night.

Once he was done, he gathered the pile of flower crowns into his arms and navigated his way back through the building. Out in the camp he could see that Agent Washington had fallen asleep in his armour, his helmet lying by his side and a strand of golden hair in front of his face.

Caboose was quiet in his movements, placing a crown on each of his comrades, and once there was only one left he approached the campfire.

Carolina had been gazing out across the plains of sand and dust when she’d felt something on her head, scrambling forwards in shock and turning around to see Caboose stood beside her, a glowing wreath by his feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Caboose?” she demanded, running her hands through her hair.

Caboose retrieved the fallen crown and held it out to her, an innocent smile on his face. “I made flower crowns for everyone,” he explained. “This one is yours. Don’t you like it?”

Carolina breathed away the shock, the flurried beats of her heart settling, and when she looked up at the blue soldier she noticed the saddened look in his eyes at the thought she didn’t like his gift. No matter how irritating he could be, she couldn’t find it in her heart to upset him, and so with a sigh she took it from him, turning it over in her hands. It was cleverly made, the stems twisted and tied together so that they didn’t lose their shape, and she had to admire the craftsmanship. She glanced at him as he sat down beside her, seeing the expectant look spread across his features, and reluctantly she nestled the crown in her hair. “It’s lovely,” she said, masking the disinclination behind a sweet smile.

“You look so pretty!” Caboose enthused, clapping his hands together and grinning. “I hope the others like their crowns too.”

Carolina couldn’t help but chuckle, looking around the camp at the soldiers and the flower crowns on top of them. For a second she felt like she could be comfortable with them, like she’d found a family again, but she quickly shook the feeling away, determined not to grow attached to them. She’d already made that mistake and lost almost everybody she held dear, and she was determined not to make that mistake again.

From her side, Caboose yawned and stretched his arms out, and she stifled back a yawn herself. “Go to sleep, Caboose,” she told him. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

With a nod he collapsed back and sleep finally took him, his snoring joining the chorus from the other sleeping soldiers within minutes.

Once he was asleep Carolina removed the flower crown from her head, admiring the glow and running her thumb over one of the petals. They reminded her of bunch of flowers that York had given her once; they were the same shade of white, and they carried the same sweet smell. She didn’t know where he’d gotten them from, she didn’t ask, but it felt like a thousand memories came flooding back to her, the smiles, the laughter, the competitiveness, the tears, the hurt, the loss, the anger. It took her a few moments to breathe it all away, and once she was safely back in the present she brought her knees up to her chest and tried her best to stay awake.

 

* * *

 

Carolina woke with a jolt at the sudden scream, her mind instantly alert and her hands scrambling for her weapons.

“What that fuck?” Grif screeched, removing the flower crown from his chest and holding it at arm’s length.

“My hayfever!” Simmons stressed, throwing the delicate piece as far as he could and scrambling back to further distance himself from it.

Sarge shot awake and grumbled, turning his head to survey the situation, and found a wreath of flowers by his side. “What in the hell is going on here?” he demanded, glaring at the flowers as if they’d spring to life and attack him. “Were we attacked in the night by some flowery monsters?”

Tucker groaned and sat up, opening his mouth to protest at being woken up when he noticed a bundle of flowers on his chest. He flopped back down as the others continued to argue, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Oh for fuck sake, not again.”


End file.
